


Hey Stud

by mrhd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28685244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhd/pseuds/mrhd
Summary: Dean gets his ears pierced. It's a gay thing.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 51
Kudos: 131





	Hey Stud

Mornings with Cas have become their own sort of routine. Cas sleeps now, just like he eats and shits (and hadn't that been something of a shock to all of them, even Cas, who had shot up out of his chair and disappeared into the bathroom, fast as if he'd found another apocalypse in there. Dean had just been grateful that Cas had already done a stint as a human and hadn't been completely unprepared.)

He still doesn't sleep (or eat, or shit) as much as Dean, so he's always awake when Dean falls asleep against him, and awake when Dean wakes up. And he follows Dean into the bathroom after, the two of them bumping and jostling. It's stupid and domestic and sickly sweet, but Dean kinds of loves it.

Sometimes Cas will take a piss, or brush his teeth, or drop to his knees and take care of Dean's morning wood. Or, like today, he'll just wrap his arms around Dean's waist and rest there.

Dean looks at the picture they make in the mirror: Cas hardly visible, just his tan arms wrapped around the fading color of Dean's t-shirt and his hair, dark and unruly on Dean's shoulder. Dean looks at himself, at the lines on his face that stay there, at the hints of gray at his temples, peppered into his scruff, at the freckles dotted across his skin. He can admit that he doesn't look bad but he looks, well, human, and normal, and aging. It strikes him as odd, that after everything he's gone through he should look so...plain. Then again, maybe it's best that it doesn’t show. It's good that his face doesn't have any trace of the monster, the killer.

"I can hear you thinking,” Cas murmurs against Dean's shoulder.

"Oh yeah?"

Cas moves his head so he can nose aside the stretched fabric of Dean's shirt and press a kiss to his skin. "What are you thinking about?"

"My face," Dean says.

"Your face?" Cas picks his head up so he can tilt it quizitively as he meets Dean's eyes in the mirror.

"Yeah,” Dean mumbles. “It's stupid."

"I hold a high opinion of your face," Cas tells him.

That makes Dean smile. "No, I meant...it's stupid, how I look at it and expect to see something different. I must be going through a mid-life crisis."

"Mid-life crisis," Cas repeats.

“Yeah, it's a human thing," Dean says with a shrug. "I gotta say, though, never really thought I'd live long enough to have one. Always figured something would gank me first."

"Hm," Cas says. “I believe it is customary for men to buy a new car. Or find a younger lover." 

"I thought you didn't know what it was, " Dean accuses, instead of dealing with anything Cas just implied.

“Just because I have access to all pop culture does not mean I remember every reference,” Cas grumbles. “I had to think about it.”

"You sayin' I should get a new car?” Dean asks.

"No," Cas says softly, kissing his skin again. "I know how you love Baby. You'd never be unfaithful to her."

Dean can feel himself relax against Cas' chest. "We talking about Baby?” he asks. "Or you?"

Cas sighs a little. "I thought the comparison was well implied,” he mutters, sounding sulky.

"You know I don't want a new car," Dean says. “Or a pretty young thing.”

“Then perhaps you should cut your hair,"mCas suggests. "Or dye it purple."

Dean catches his smile in the mirror and laughs. "Nah, don't think I'm that desperate." He tilts his head a bit, considering. It's another cliché but..."Maybe I should pierce my ear,” he says out loud.

Cas blinks at him. "Do you wish to pierce your ears for ornamental purposes?"

Dean shrugs. It's not like he's given it that much thought. But now that the idea is in his brain, he kind of likes it. "It's a thing," he says. "For, you know, guys like us.”

Cas tilts his head again. "Guys like us?"

"Yeah. Gay guys, you know? Queers.” It's not until it's out of his mouth that Dean realizes he's never said it before. It had bounced around in his brain for years, but Dean had just shoved it aside. He had time to worry about monsters, and about Sammy, and anything else he had pushed to the side. Girls were easier. Girls were expected and he liked girls fine, he really did.

Then there was Cas. Cas who made him laugh who made him smile. Who made Dean's stomach swoop in ways too terrifying to examine. Cas who Dean couldn't breathe without. He hadn’t meant to fall in love with Cas, hadn’t even really noticed that he had until it was too late.

And he'd had those thoughts, but he shoved them away under mountains of denial and excuses. Of "but he's an angel" and "he's my bestfriend" and "he's family". He'd admired Cas' face, his strong jaw, his check bones, the blue of his eyes the same way he had the width of his shoulders, the charm of his messy hair. He had put it aside to place he had filed away the way Cas looked at him sometimes, and the way he had looked at Cas in return. Buried it beneath years of practice at denying himself his happiness. Buried it beneath the denial. Cas was a man, or at least, he inhabited one, and Dean couldn't afford that. The tricks he used to turn had been for money, money for Sammy, and the few boys his own age that he had kissed, they had been practice, curiosity. Benny had been desperate companionship at the edge of the world, they had needed each other, needed the connection to stay sane. There were no excuses for his feelings about Cas, so he had pretended.

But Cas is here now, warm and solid, holding Dean while Dean has an existential crisis at eight in the morning. They had fucked last night, and Cas had pressed a kiss between Dean's shoulder blades and spoken words of love, of worship as he rocked into Dean's body. Dean had clutched his hand and kissed Cas' knuckles.

Dean loves Cas, and he's not afraid of it.

So, he decides, fuck it.

"Let's go,'' he says abruptly, grabbing Cas' hand.

"Where?" Cas asks, but he's smiling, letting himself be pulled.

"There's gotta be a piercing parlor in town,” Dean says, unable to keep a grin off his face.

"Okay," Cas agrees. "But perhaps we should put on pants first."

* * *

They end up driving a few hours out of Lebanon. Partially because a Google search had revealed nicer-looking parlors farther out, and because Dean misses it, the long drives in Baby, especially with Cas at his side, humming into the breeze. It's an excuse to get out, and even if Sam had been all sappy and annoying about it, cooing about how they're long overdue a date and how he's tired of looking at them making cow eyes at each other, Dean knows he appreciates the alone time.

Dean had scoffed grumpily at him, but he is thinking that it might be nice to take Cas out after, maybe to some place better than a diner or a bar. Not that it would matter to Cas. Maybe they'll just find a nice deserted place to fuck in the Impala.

Dean's so used to driving for days at a time that this drive, even the three hours that it was, seems short. He parks Baby on the street in front of an eclectic collection of storefronts. There's a second-hand clothes store, a tea shop, and an office supply store between them and the unassuming facade of the piercing parlor.

It's weird. Dean isn't nervous. He feels...excited. It hits him then, that getting his ear pierced isn't something that the Dean Winchester who Chuck wrote about would do. It's not something John Winchester would have ever raised him to do. It's unexpected. It's freeing. He looks over at Cas and grins.

Cas smiles back. "What?" he says.

Dean shrugs. "I never thought I'd pierce my ears. Now I am. It's free will, Cas."

Cas smiles at him, gentle and happy and sweet.

It's as clear a declaration of love as the words themselves. Dean’s heart pounds in reciprocation.

They walk too close together on the sidewalk, just because they can, Cas' trenchcoat brushing Dean's shins.

Dean doesn't think he's ever felt as happy and free as he does walking into the piercing parlor with Cas at his side. He probably approaches the counter with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm, but the kid behind the counter just smiles at him. "I want to get my ear pierced," Dean announces.

"Sure," the kid says easily, grabbing a form. "What type of piercing do you want? On which ear?"

“Um," Dean says, feeling stupid. Fuck, he should have looked this up first. "The normal one?"

Luckily the kid doesn't seem to be about to kick his old ass out. "A lobe piercing?" she asks, flicking one of the rings in her own ear.

"Yeah, that," Dean says, grateful.

“Which ear?" she asks writing "lobe" on the form.

Dean has to think again. Fuck. He thought he knew this. "Uh, which one is the gay one?" he asks.

The girl's friendly expression shutters. "We are an inclusive shop, sir," she says firmly. “Bigoted attitudes will not be tolerated.”

Dean's stupid brain pauses again, confused over the sudden hostility. Then it clicks. She doesn't know. This girl has never met him before. She doesn’t know that Dean is brushing his fingertips against the back of Cas' hand deliberately, and she doesn't know that he's spent his life as a plaything of a god, that this is his first toddling step of freedom. "No, fuck, no,” he says quickly. "I don't mean, wait, no, I do mean." he stops and starts over. "I mean that I'm, uh...” He trails off again. The word feels weird in his mouth. He takes Cas' hand in his and lifts them so the girl can see. "I want the gay ear," he says, which is, frankly, nonsense. But the girl's demeanor relaxes immediately.

"It's the right ear then,” she says with a smile.

Dean relaxes with her. "The right ear," he repeats.

The girl makes another mark on the form when Dean has a thought. Instinctively he bites it back, but then he thinks fuck it yet again. He's already made a fool of himself in front of this girl. "Should I get both ears?" he asks, getting the attention of both the girl and Cas. "Since I like both?"

"Do you want both ears pierced, Dean?" Cas asks.

Dean shrugs. "Do you think it would look hot?"

"I already find you aesthetically pleasing," Cas says.

"Aesthetically pleasing," Dean mimics.

Cas rolls his eyes. "I already find you hot,” he says. "The amount of jewelry in your ears will not change this fact.”

Dean’s heart beats a little harder. He squeezes Cas' hand and resists the urge to start making out with him.

"Would you like to see the diagram of possible piercings?” the girl asks.

When Dean tears his eyes away from Cas to look at her, she's wearing the same look on her face that Sam gets right before he tells them to get a room. She’s offering Dean a piece of paper, on which is a drawing of an ear, with various piercings, all labelled.

It turns out there's a lot more places to pierce an ear than Dean thought.

Cas presses closer, shoulder resting against Dean's back, to look at the paper.

"What d'ya think, Cas?" Dean asks.

Cas hums lightly. "I think they would all suit you," he says. "I also think you have a thought that you want me to affirm."

Dean elbows him in the ribs. Cas is right, damn him. "I like this one," Dean says, tapping the image a rod that goes through the top of the ear and out the other side. It's labeled "industrial”. 

"Industrials are great,” the girl says, "but a bit intense for a first piercing. It goes through cartilage, which is tougher than the lobe. It hurts more, and it's a longer healing process."

Dean shrugs. "Not my first time being stabbed," he says.

He's aiming for charming, but he must miss, because the girl just looks alarmed.

"It's true, " Cas assures her, “Dean is very tough.”

The girl doesn't look any less alarmed, but she takes the paper back and tries to match their smiles. "Okay," she says. "Did you want the industrial in your right ear as well?"

"Left,” Dean says. He likes the idea of looking two different ways.

The girl nods and scribbles that down of the form she has, before putting it on a clipboard and handing it to Dean. "I just need you to fill out The rest of this paperwork, and I'll need to photocopy your ID.”

“Of course," Dean says, fishing out one of his fakes. He really needs an identity that isn't dead or wanted for murder. Maybe if Sam ever nuts up and gets Eileen a ring they can all become Leahys.

Dean is used to lying. John taught him how to before he even taught Dean to hunt. He’s been lying his whole life. About his job, his name, where he lives, where his dad was. It’s never bothered him before. But now, looking at this simple, innocuous form, he feels like a fake person. He lives in an underground bunker with no real address, shops with hacked credit cards that are under a fake name, even drives his baby with a fake license. It’s part of the life and it’s never bothered him before. It shouldn’t now. 

“Dean,” Cas says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Just thinkin’.” Maybe now that everything is over he and Sam could clean up their identities.

Cas hums and doesn’t press, but Dean is sure he’ll bring it up later.

Well, at least I'm actually more than eighteen years old, Dean thinks. He'd lied about that too, back in the day, though it had been a hard sell. His dad had grumbled about Dean's pretty face, but there wasn't anything to be done about Dean's face. At least Cas finds it "aesthetically pleasing".

Lies completed, Dean hands the clipboard back to the girl, who staples a copy of his fake license to it. She smiles at Dean when she hands it back to him.

"The piercer will be with you in a bit," she says. "She's just sanitizing her station.”

"Great, "Dean says. "And, uh, Thank you. For the help."

He's not sure what this bright young thing with already glittering ears must think of him, in his forties and clueless, but her smile is warm and friendly.

“Of course,” she says. She taps a rainbow flag pin stuck to her collar and winks.

Dean feels himself go warm, but not hot in the humiliated way. He feels...seen. Recognized. It's a nice feeling.

He's saved from unpacking it when she pulls out a little tray. “This is our starter jewelry,” she says. “These,” she points, “are the industrials, and these,” she points again, “are the studs. They vary slightly in price.”

Dean looks at them. The industrial rods all seem to be fairly simple, straightforward steel rods. The studs sparkle a bit, especially the ones that look like diamonds.

“That one is good,” Dean says, pointing to a rod that’s silvery and shiny. It reminds him a bit of Cas’ angel blade, but that thought he keeps to himself. “And uh, this stud here. That matches.”

“Nice,” the girl says. She puts the tray back and grabs some packaged jewelry.

She hands it to an older woman who’s stepped around the partition. “Jessica, this is Dean, your next client,” she says.

“Nice to meet you Dean,” Jessica says, holding her hand out to shake. "I'm going to be piercing you today.”

"Great,” Dean says, shaking her hand. "I'm Dean and this is Cas, he's my..." Dean trails off. He's introduced Cas as his friend before, as his associate. But neither are good enough anymore. But "boyfriend" sounds silly, like they're in the eighth grade. "Partner" feels wrong too. Cas is his partner, but so is Sam.

"I'm his lover," Cas says.

Jessica grins and Dean hears a snort beside him that is clearly the girl trying not to laugh.

"He can come back with us," Jessica says kindly.

Dean steps on Cas' foot as they follow her.

Cas smirks at him. "If you preferred a different label you should have said something," he says easily.

"Lover' makes it sound like we're fucking," Dean grumbles.

“Dean,” Cas say. "We _are_ fucking."

Dean elbows him again. "That's not all of it though,” he says. Were like...I don't know. You said you loved me, man."

"I do," Cas says simply.

Dean's heart picks up.

"That's why I said 'lover' and not ‘fuck buddy’,” Cas continues, still smirking.

"You're a real fuckin' riot," Dean grumbles.

“It's your fault," Cas points out. "You're the one who taught me 'humor’.” He even does air quotes with his fingers, because Cas is an asshole.

"You better shut up before I dump your ass," Dean threatens.

"You wouldn't," Cas says confidently, sitting in the chair Jessica directs him to, and Dean is distracted.

Jessica’s piercing station has a padded table, like a doctor's, and a whole shelf of things like cotton balls and swabs and rubbing alcohol. She has a little metal tray on a stand that reminds Dean of a dentist, except on it are packaged needles and the jewelry Dean had picked out, and a few of the industrial rods in different lengths.

Dean sits down on the table and smiles at Jessica.

She smiles back. “I know that this is your first piercing, so I’ll tell you what I’m doing. But you let me know if you have any questions," she says.

Dean nods.

"I'm going to clean your ears, then make a mark in pen where the piercing will go. You can take a look and tell me if you like it. Once you're satisfied I'll go ahead and put the jewelry in, alright?"

“Sounds good,” Dean says. It all sounds very careful. He kind just thought she would stab him.

Jessica puts some gloves on and gets an alcohol swab, swiping gently over Dean's ear.

Dean keeps himself still and tries not to react. It's only now occurring to him that he can't remember the last time someone other than Sam or Cas or Jack had touched him without trying to kill him.

Jessica’s touch is swift and professional, and soon enough she's poking at his ears with a marker. "There,” she announces. "Take a look and tell me what you think.” 

Dean takes a few steps over to the mirror. He's not sure really what he's looking for. He looks much the same as he had this morning, except for three little purple dots. One on his right earlobe, and two on the left, on the top and the bottom of the diagonal. "It looks good,” he says, because it does.

“Alright then, sit back down," Jessica says. She's switching out her gloves and cleaning the jewelry.

Cas is watching her with his usual intense curiosity.

Jessica smiles over at him. "I like to do this in front of customers, so you can see,” she says. "You can see me open the packages, and see me clean them as well."

"You clearly take great care," Cas says.

Jessica smiles at him. "That's because I do care,” she says. "Now." She turns to Dean. "I'm going to measure your left ear for the industrial. "

Dean nods, and she holds up a few rods before deciding on one. She lines it up with t the needles on the tray and changes her gloves once more before turning to Dean.

"Are you ready?' she asks.

"Yeah, "Dean says. The excitement making his blood pump is lighter them the dread he's so used to. It makes him feel almost wilder.

“We’ll start with the easier one," Jessica says, crossing to Dean's right. "You're going to feel a little pinch. Now breathe in."

Dean does.

"And out.”

On the exhale Dean does feel a pinch, a brief spark of pain, and then it's gone.

"Just like that,” Jessica says.

"Did you do it?" Dean asks, instinctively lifting his hand to feel. He thought it would be...more.

Jessica knocks his hand away. "Try not to touch it without cleaning your hands first,” she says. "But yes, you now have a pierced ear, Dean. Congratulations."

Dean grins.

Cas gets up and leans over to peer at Dean's ear as Jessica moves to his other side.

"How does it look?" Dean asks.

"Good,” Cas says decisively.

"Awesome,” Dean says.

"Ready for the next one?" Jessica asks. "This is going to be a longer pinch, and you're going to feel some pressure."

"Yeah, no problem,” Dean says.

Jessica stands, lining up with the top of Dean's ear. "Deep breath in," she says.

Dean inhales.

"Now exhale slowly."

Jessica was right. Dean feels the pressure build at the top of his ear, and he feels it when it breaks through.

"Good," Jessica says, and Dean can feel the rest of the rod going in, strange for a brief moment. "Now breathe in again for me. And now slowly out."

Dean feels the pressure once more and then it's over.

"All done," Jessica says, stepping away with a smile. She switches her gloves again and grabs a cotton ball, dabbing gently. “Now, the aftercare fairly straight forward.”

“Isn't aftercare a sex thing?" Dean blurts without thinking.

Cas snorts and Jessica laughs. “It is for many things,” she says. “But in terms of taking care of your piercings, the important thing is to keep them clean. Don't touch them with unwashed hands. Try not to tug on them. Under no circumstances should you put your mouth on them.” She eyes Cas as she says this, and Cas looks away. She gives Dean, and what he's realizing now must be a prominent hickey on his neck, a significant look. “We have a cleaning solution on sale here for you if you need it. Showering is fine, but don't submerge them in a bath or a pool until they're healed. Bleeding is normal for a bit as is build up. Be gentle when you wipe it off.”

"Yes, ma'am," Dean says.

Jessica smiles at him. "Wanna take a look?"

Dean nods eagerly, his excitement returning.

His ears are red in the mirror, standing out. But glinting in the light is the metal. It's subtle, but they're there. Dean is changed, marked, and it was his choice this time. "It's great," he tells Jessica fully meaning it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she says, smiling.

Cas stands behind Dean and puts his hand on his shoulder. "They do suit you," he says, voice low, before he kisses the space behind Dean's newly pierced right ear.

Dean shinvers from the promise in that voice.

Cas steps away a moment later and Dean remembers to exhale.

Jessica gives him a sheet of paper with the aftercare instructions on it and sends them of with a smile.

The girl in the front grins at him when he goes to pay. "Looking good there. Like 'em?"

Dean nods. “Fuck yeah," he saygs. It's weird, to be so happy, so thrilled, with a decision of his. To not be calculating the consequences.

He keeps sneaking glances at himself in the rearview mirror on the drive home. He knows Cas is catching him at it, because he smirks every time, but he doesn't say anything. He just looks at Dean with a heat in gaze that makes Dean's stomach tighten in anticipation. Part of him thinks they ought to pull over and fuck in the back seat already, but there's something exciting about waitin too. They don't have to rush, there will be time for them to fuck once they get back. Plenty of it.

Cas takes his hand as soon as they're out of the Impala. Dean smiles at him.

"You really like the earrings huh?"

"They look good on you," Cas says. "And they have made you happy."

Dears heart does a stupid little flip and he takes Cas' face in his hands and kisses him.

Cas cups his hands in the space behind Dean's ears and kisses back, sweet and excited.

"You know you're only like, one hallway away from your room, right?"

"Heya, Sammy," Dean says, pulling away from Cas.

Sam is shaking his head, but he’s smiling behind his hair. "Had a good date then?"

"I got my ears pierced,” Dean says. "Cas thinks it's hot."

Sam rolls his eyes and Cas' look fails to be disproving enough.

"It looks good," Sam says nicely. "You did it just to impress Cas?"

"No,” Dean says. “I did it because I'm cool.” He grins at Sam.

Sam snorts. "Alright, cool guy," he says.

"You wouldn't understand," Dean says. "It's a gay thing."

Sam laughs outright at that, the little bitch.

"Aw, don't be homophobic, Sammy."

Sam shoves him. "Cas, you have terrible taste in men," he says.

Cas shrugs. "I think he's charming. And his skill in bed makes up for his unfortunate humor."

Dean would retaliate, but it did get Sam to pretend to vomit, so he takes Sam's misery as a win. "Might wanna put on headphones, Sammy," he calls, already dragging Cas away.

"Jerk!" follows them down the hall, but Dean feels light, still holding onto Cas' hand, tripping over Cas' feet.

They kiss the laughter from each other's mouths as they fall into bed.

* * *

Nighttimes with Cas have their own ritual. Like the mornings, Cas will take care of any business he has to, but mostly he just bumps Dean playfully with his hips and gets in the way. He’s so sweet about it that Dean can’t even get mad at him. When he’s feeling especially horny he’s not shy about groping Dean and trying to usher him into bed.

He’s patient tonight, probably because Dean made him come no less than three times earlier (Dean is occasionally wildly jealous of Cas’ angel refractory period), content to hold onto Dean’s waist and nuzzle at his jaw and ears.

In the mirror, Dean can see his new piercings catch the soft bathroom light. He doesn’t look that different from the morning, just a day’s worth of scruff on his face and the little glints in his ears. He’s exactly who he was all those hours ago, technically. Dean’s been through more self-altering experiences than anyone should have to, not the least of which involved being remade completely by the angel currently draped over his back like a cape. By all rights today was simple. But, Dean realizes with a shock, it had been for him. He’d wanted it, so he’d done it, and not for the world, or for Sam, or Cas, but just for him.

It’s nice, that freedom to be a little selfish.

“Hey,” he says, relaxing back into Cas’ hold. “You know if you really wanted to you could use your mojo to heal it up so you can bite my ear like you so obviously want to.”

Cas takes the unpierced cartilage of Dean’s right ear in his teeth gently.

Dean grins at him in the mirror.

“What would you think,” Cas asks, licking the shell of Dean’s ear and making him shiver, “if I got a piercing?”

His voice is low, rumbly, but right in Dean’s ear he feels it in his core. “Like mine?” he asks, tilting his head back for Cas. “You wanna match?”

“Oh,” Cas says, pulling back a bit to kiss where his teeth just were. “That’s a sweet idea.”

Dean tries not to blush. “Well, what was your idea?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was thinking,” Cas murmurs into his neck, “that perhaps I should pierce my dick.”

Dean chokes on his own spit.

**Author's Note:**

> On one hand, I got my ear pierced a few months ago. On the other hand, I got my lobes pierced literally two decades ago, and my industrial five years ago, so memory may be faulty, techniques may have changed, etc, I am not a piercer so forgive any inaccuracies. If you're going to get a piercing, go to a parlor, not a store in the mall. Run far away from piercing guns, kids!
> 
> This ended up being a weirdly personal piece, at least in the writing of it. Let me know what y'all think.


End file.
